


Hand in Glove

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Character Death Fix, Clothing Kink, Falling In Love, Gloves, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Obsession, Oral Sex, Slash, Teacher-Student Relationship, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The loss of a worn Quidditch glove leads Cedric to find something far more valuable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand in Glove

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Absolutely nowhere please, not even in translated form.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was written in April 2006.  
> (Please note that I may lock my explicit stories to registered users only, once they've been up for a bit.)
> 
> Warning: Harry is 16. If that's underage where you are, you might like to avoid!

The loss of one of his Quidditch gloves had not seemed of great consequence to Cedric Diggory; as Hogwarts' new Quidditch instructor after Hooch had made off to Beauxbatons, he could easily afford replacements. But it was a pity, because the leather had been well worn, soft and comfortably moulded to the shape of Cedric's right hand. He hadn't expected to see the glove again. He certainly hadn't expected to see it on Harry Potter's hand, wrapped around Harry Potter's cock.

There was no mistaking it - it was Cedric's glove, from the bleached shade of tan to the nearly worn through patch near the wrist. Beyond that, it was completely impossible to concentrate on the glove itself, considering…

* * *

When Cedric arrived at the locker rooms, approaching them from the castle, he slowed his steps as he realised a light was on inside. He carefully moved through the shrubs and towards the door. It was nearly nine o'clock at night, and who would be out here except for himself wanting to get in some late night practice? He soundlessly opened the door and, when he didn't see anyone right away, walked in and towards the lockers. Just before he got there, he heard movement from the area and turned sideways to approach from the showers instead so as not to be seen. He didn't know why he thought stealth was necessary, except that he was still so new to being a teacher, he hadn't entirely shaken his student mentality yet. He felt more in sync with the students he instructed than with his fellow faculty members. And he felt most in sync with the particular boy he saw standing in front of the lockers.

Cedric had recognised Harry Potter during the boy's first year on hearsay alone. By his third year, Harry's heroics had made him impossible to ignore. And then there had been that Quidditch game during which they had passed high above the pitch, both pausing in their eager search for the snitch to look towards each other. To hold eye contact for too long a time to be entirely safe on a speeding broom. Too long a time to be accidental. Too long a time to end in anything but shy smiles and mutual blushing.

The sound of a locker closing shook Cedric from his remembrances for a moment, and he peered past the corner of the shower cubicles to see Harry sitting down on the bench, still in full Quidditch gear, looking thoughtfully at something in his hands.

During Harry's fourth year and that blasted tournament, he had been Cedric's constant worry, and constant obsession, right up until the moment a bewitched and confused Viktor Krum had destroyed the cup. Everyone had been angry, but in the end, it hadn't mattered; certainly not to Cedric, because Harry had been safe. He'd had a very bad feeling about the tournament. The following year, at the leaving ball for the seventh years, Harry had passed Cedric in the corridor, saying a sad goodbye to him; Cedric had told him that he would be returning after the holidays as the new Quidditch instructor. The sadness had vanished instantly, and Harry's smile at the news would have rivalled the sun. That smile had haunted Cedric during the summer, and ever since Harry's sixth year had started, a month ago, Cedric had fought to stop himself from approaching him and asking whether he had _meant_ for it to haunt him. By now, Harry was constantly in Cedric's thoughts. His face was etched into Cedric's mind, the colour of his eyes burned into his memory, and the shape of his smile sweetened his dreams.

Cedric stood very still, able to see Harry's profile from the right. The Gryffindor's back was against the wall separating the lockers from the showers, his legs some way apart. Cedric watched him open his hands, and nearly gasped when he recognised his missing glove in Harry's right hand. He watched him inspect it, shivered as if the leather was an extension of his skin when Harry's fingers caressed it, and nearly whimpered when the boy lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

And after that, Cedric thought he would probably go quite mad, because the next thing Harry did was push back the folds of his long red Quidditch cloak, unzip his trousers, and let the flaps fall open around his already erect cock. Cedric sighed in sympathy just as Harry did when the pressure was relieved.

Harry looked down at himself, licked his lips, and peeled Cedric's glove over his right hand. Cedric's fingers clenched around the thin wall just as Harry's gloved hand wrapped itself around his cock and began to stroke it, at a forcibly leisurely pace, as if he was memorising the exact feel of the softened leather against his sensitive skin.

Cedric bit his lip as he watched, enthralled, wishing he could see Harry's expression more clearly even while considering that he shouldn't be here, watching this, at all.

Harry's legs fell open further as he slouched back against the wall, his head lolling to the side as he sped up his strokes. He was breathing heavily, but making no other noise, almost as if he was used to doing this quickly, silently, efficiently.

Cedric was pressing himself against the wall separating them so tightly that he feared it might bend. He hoped against hope that the pressure might somehow get rid of his ever more insistent erection. He had fantasised so much about Harry that to see him now, here, doing _this_ , with _his_ glove, felt almost dreamlike. He was certain he would wake up any moment, while wishing desperately that Harry would do something, anything, to convince him this was real. That was when he heard the soft gasp, followed by a single word that almost made him cry out.

"Cedric!" Harry's hand - Cedric's glove - tightened around the straining flesh, punishingly, squeezing hard enough to make Cedric's eyes water. The strong thighs were trembling, and Harry whimpered. "Please... Cedric."

Cedric couldn't help himself. It wasn't even a conscious decision. He approached the boy from his hiding place. His legs felt shaky, and he was so hard, it hurt to walk.

Harry was too engrossed in his impending climax to hear the soft steps, but when his hand was covered by another, long fingers curling around his own, loosening them ever so slightly but continuing his strokes, his eyes flew open. Panic and arousal swirled in a green fire. "Shit! Oh God!" he cried out, jolting upright. "I'm so..."

"It's okay, Harry." Cedric knelt before him, between his spread legs, smiling gently. He looked at their hands, atop one another on Harry's cock, stroking at a less punishing pace. "You're squeezing so hard, Harry. Doesn't that hurt?" His voice was infinitely soft.

"Don't mind," Harry whispered, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink with shame.

"I wouldn't do it so hard, you know," Cedric assured him. "I'd be very gentle with you. Like this." He uncurled Harry's gloved hand and took his cock entirely into his own.

Harry moaned and shuddered.

Cedric stroked him slowly, with firm but not too tight strokes, admiring the rosy flesh in his palm and the darker tip squeezing through his fist, leaving droplets on his skin with each downstroke. "Isn't this better?" he asked huskily.

"Yes." Harry gulped. Then he moaned as Cedric smeared come over his tip and into the slit.

"What else have you fantasised about, Harry?" Cedric asked, his voice deep and breathy. Harry went pink. "You can tell me." A soft smile, gently encouraging.

"I... I've thought about you... licking me." Harry lowered his eyes.

The cock in Cedric's hand twitched during Harry's confession. "So have I," Cedric breathed, his eyes meeting Harry's as the boy's head snapped up.

"You have?"

Cedric smirked. He held the base of Harry's cock, just tightly enough to delay the inevitable a little longer, and flicked his tongue out across the come-smeared tip.

Crying out, Harry jerked on the bench, nearly sliding off. His gloved hand found Cedric's hair, and he curled his fingers in it, his left hand gripping the edge of the bench he was sitting on.

"That's right, Harry. Hold on to me." Cedric uncurled the clenching fingers from the bench and entwined them with his own.

Harry's fingers tightened in Cedric's. He sighed, watching with half-lidded eyes as Cedric smiled up at him and ran the tip of his tongue along the underside of his cock. He was at once tense and boneless, the muscles of his legs twitching uncontrollably. "Cedric," he whispered, awed, holding the grey eyes as if he couldn't believe the man was real.

Cedric closed his mouth over the head of Harry's cock, and hummed.

Harry snapped his hips forward by reflex, then panicked that he might gag Cedric, but the hand around his base was tight, keeping him from pushing too far, too fast. He relaxed back into the pleasure, moaning softly as Cedric's lips squeezed around him and his tongue sought out every sensitive spot, drawing Harry's cock deeper and deeper into his throat. When Cedric tilted his head slightly, crouching lower and looking up at Harry from under his lashes, and then simply swallowed, Harry's dwindling control snapped, and with a broken cry, he came harder than he had ever done in his life. He couldn't seem to stop, no matter how much he worried about how Cedric could take it all.

Cedric didn't seem to be in distress. His eyes firmly fixed on Harry's, he swallowed and continued to suck, more and more gently, until Harry was completely drained. He looked up at the flushed face, mussed hair and chewed lips, and felt a surge of affection so strong it nearly undid him.

Harry must have seen something in his expression, because his eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. "Cedric," he breathed.

Cedric smiled at him almost bashfully and tucked him back in. Then, remaining on his knees, he leaned forward to pull Harry into his arms.

Harry clung to him, his head in the crook of Cedric's neck, his nose flattened against a solid shoulder under soft grey cotton. He inhaled deeply, Cedric's spicy, musky scent overwhelming his senses. There was so much he wanted to say, had been wanting to say for so long, that he couldn't decide where to start. It didn't matter. Cedric seemed to know how he felt. He was treating him gently enough to make Harry think that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

"May I kiss you, Harry?" Cedric finally asked, sounding hesitant.

Harry couldn't help it. He giggled, more out of sheer giddiness than amusement, and Cedric joined in.

"That was a stupid question, wasn't it? Considering..." Cedric raised his head and cupped Harry's face in his hands. He hardly dared to breathe for a moment. "I've been wanting you for so long, Harry," he said huskily. "I can barely think about anything but you."

Harry's heart was pounding. His lips parted, but he couldn't form words. He gave Cedric a pleading look, hoping it would speak for him. And it must have, because with a soft whimper, Cedric closed his eyes and kissed him.

There was nothing to which Harry could liken that kiss. Not even what Cedric had done to him minutes earlier could compare. His lips were soothed and licked and nibbled on, his tongue played with, and throughout it all, Cedric's hands were caressing his cheeks, cupping his head, running through his hair. By the time Cedric released Harry's mouth, they were both breathing hard and trembling all over.

Harry gazed at Cedric adoringly. "I think I love you," he blurted out, then squeezed his eyes closed in mortification. For a moment, nothing happened. Both of them were holding their breaths. And then Harry's glasses were pulled off and he felt those soft lips he could still taste pressed on his closed eyelids one after the other, before playfully kissing the tip of his nose. He opened his eyes and blinked.

Cedric was smiling at him, that much he could see, and sounding extraordinarily happy when he said, "It's good to know we're on the same page."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah."

"Hand in glove, so to speak," Cedric added. He replaced the glasses on Harry's nose, then grinned down at Harry's right hand, still wearing his glove.

"You'll want this back, I guess?" Harry asked, blushing again. He was about to apologize for having taken it in the first place, when he was silenced by Cedric's next words.

"Only with your hand inside it."

Harry stared at him, and heat flooded not only his face but his entire body at the expression on Cedric's face as he unzipped his own trousers, took Harry's gloved hand, and guided it between the folds of fabric.

 

THE END


End file.
